Fluid
by Het Up
Summary: Glinda hates being dirty, but loves getting clean. Gelphie.


Glinda stood outside the official Shiz washroom, provided free of charge to each double room. Glinda was almost pathologically afraid of being smudged, smeared, or otherwise polluted with any sort of grime, so having a washroom all to herself was one of her main reasons for not wanting to be in the dormitories. This did not explain why Elphaba was in her washroom.

So Glinda stood there, in a bathrobe, a towel draped over her forearm, ready for her evening wash and not receiving it.

"So, you can't touch water at all or you…?"

"Melt."

"Oh. Dear me. This begs the question, of course… what are you doing in a washroom? You do know that water is generally involved in washing, correct?"

Elphaba's voice drifted out of the closed, locked washroom. "Yes, I am aware of that, Miss Glinda. I get by."

"Get by? I'm curious as to how and why it must be in the washroom and not somewhere else. And, seeing as how Shiz is a place of learning, it would be incumbent upon you to tell me. Unless you'd rather I'd fetch an authority, for to me, someone being in a washroom and not washing seems to me to be grounds for charges of moral turpitude." Glinda was proud of herself for fitting that many words into a sentence.

The door swung open and Elphaba dragged her inside much like a trap-door wasp trapping its prey. Glinda even let out a little "eep!" as Elphaba closed and locked the door. The Munchkinlander was completely nude, her slim body shiny with some sort of gel residue. Glinda promptly sat down on the washroom's bench. The washroom was cramped, barely big enough for two people to turn around in.

"If you must know," Elphaba whispered harshly, "I use a special detergent."

"That would explain the smell."

"What smell?"

"Well, far be it for me to point this out to you in such a setting, but I have noticed that a sort of… scent does linger about you."

Elphaba took a step closer to Glinda. "I don't have a scent."

"Yes you do!" Glinda insisted, leaning forward and taking an exaggerated sniff. "You smell distinctly of poppies."

In leaning forward, Glinda couldn't help but notice that Elphaba's belly was, quite possibly, her most attractive asset. Her bosom was small and her rump was that of a young boy's, but the belly was sleek and smooth, like the bedsheet on a freshly made bed.

Elphaba reached into the bucket of gel, took her glistening hand out, and rubbed Glinda's cheek. "There. See? No smell."

"It must just be you then." Glinda took a step closer to Elphaba, making all the empty space available to the washroom be around them. "That's good. I quite like poppies and you smell of them. You smell delightfully of them."

Elphaba looked around the washroom. "I'm glad you enjoy it, but I don't smell this way for your pleasure. I disdain the smell of perfumed flowers or flowered perfumes. They're far too whimsical. They try too hard to smell good."

"I think I agree. Their smell is overpowering, at times. Yours is subtler. I love the way you smell."

"No, you like the smell of poppies."

"I like that smell, but I love yours. Interesting, how one can like one thing and love another, when there isn't that much difference between them. I guess I'd attribute it to context. Shield your eyes, Miss Elphaba, I'm about to do something untoward."

Glinda pushed her head forward and pecked Elphaba on the lips. "Oh, you taste the way poppies ought to taste. I love it."

Elphaba blinked, disappointed. "That wasn't untoward. _This_ is untoward."

She took Glinda in her arms and engulfed the Gillikinese woman with her tongue. Glinda felt her robe falling off her body and Elphaba's hands exploring her body.

"You're… very good at this!" Glinda gasped.

"I've practiced extensively. It's what girls who can't bewitch boys do. But I must say, I much prefer the feel of your body to my own."

"Oh, you shouldn't say that, Miss Elphaba." Glinda reached for Elphaba's body and began exploring its contours. "Your body feels the way… the way everything ought to feel."

"Even my fingers?" Elphaba asked as she dipped four digits into the bucket and began sliding them, one by lubricated one, inside of Glinda.

"Especially your fingers!" Glinda cried. "Oh, dear! I think I'm coming around to your way of washing, Miss Elphaba!"

"Just so long as you come, Miss Glinda," Elphaba replied.


End file.
